


Meddling Kids

by ryry_peaches



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [6]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24611134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryry_peaches/pseuds/ryry_peaches
Summary: Whilst volunteering to help out the high school drama club, Patrick has a small revelation about marriage.-The kids huddle around, shooting David incredibly blatant glances.  "Who is this?"  Asks Joshie, a junior who's chalk-full of innuendo.  She's eyeing David speculatively, head tilted."This is the guy who just brought you all pizza."  Patrick leans in to peck David, a quick, cursory thing, as David gets close to him.  "Guys, this is my husband, David."
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735951
Comments: 33
Kudos: 361





	Meddling Kids

**Author's Note:**

> requested on tumblr by @leopxld-fitz from [this post](https://loveburnsbrighter.tumblr.com/post/619699456386957312/a-soft-fic-prompt-meme). 30: "this is my husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/etc"
> 
> As protests continue around the world for Black lives, I'd like to take a moment and encourage y'all to do whatever you can to materially supporter protestors and Black people everywhere. Sign petitions, give what you can, support Black-owned businesses. And remember to uplift LGBT+ Black voices this pride!

When Jocelyn asked Patrick to help out with the high school's fall musical ("The drama teacher is on extended maternity leave, we're really in a bind!") he wasn't so sure at first. He agreed, of course, in no small part because Jocelyn had the glint in her eye that said she was on the edge of snapping, but he wasn't particularly excited about the prospect of running lines with a bunch of teens eight hours a week for eight weeks out of the fall. Especially when that time could be spent in the store he runs with his new husband.

David, for his part, hadn't been thrilled about being left to close alone four days a week, but he'd encouraged Patrick easily enough, waving away his concerns breezily. "You like kids," he told Patrick the night before his first day on the job, murmuring into the space between them across their pillows. "And you love theater. This will be good for you."

David had been right, of course. Now, three weeks into rehearsals for _Grease,_ Patrick is loving the job, even if the kids have a terrible collective habit of asking invasive questions and making inappropriate jokes. Patrick finds himself sending a mental apology to all of his high school teachers the third time he catches the kids sharing a rousing chorus of a particularly dirty song, and catches himself sternly asking them to cut it out.

For the most part, though, the job is fun. The kids call him "Mr Patrick," and they seem actually impressed when he tells them about _Cabaret._ The student director listens to his suggestions. It's another one of those things that's clicked in his life since he moved to Schitt's Creek, although less and less frequently; he was meant to do this, could have been doing this all along.

It's Wednesday of his third week on _Grease,_ and the kids have asked if they can stay an extra hour or so, try a full run-through with notes. Jocelyn, who's their official staff supervisor and barely involved in the actual mechanics of the play, tells them that it's okay with her if it's okay with Patrick, so he calls David to let him know he'll be home extra-late.

David is surprisingly chipper about it. "I'm gonna lock up in about half an hour," he says, voice crackling past the school's shotty reception. "I could pick up some pizza for you and the kids?"

Patrick fake-gasps. "Is that David Rose, doing something nice for a bunch of children?"

"Um, I'm doing something nice for _you,_ and if the children happen to benefit, I can't control that," David clarifies with a huff.

Patrick laughs as he hangs up.

They're working through _Hopelessly Devoted to You,_ a little bit shakily, when there's a sharp rattle on the auditorium door. Jocelyn leaps from the card table where she's been grading papers. "David!" She exclaims when she opens it and he struts in, laden down with pizza boxes. "You brought the kids dinner!"

"Yeah, Patrick said they were working late?" David sets the stack of boxes on the table, careful of Jocelyn's papers. 

"Of course!" Jocelyn is smiling like she's impressed by the gesture. 

Patrick witnesses this exchange from partway between the door and the stage, which are maybe fifteen feet apart. "Okay, guys, take ten," he calls as they wrap up their number. "I got us pizza!"

"Sorry, _who_ got us pizza?" David raises a pointed brow.

Patrick looks David over, his skirt and sweater and horribly uncomfortable-looking boots, and thinks that the kids will love him. Especially Sal; they play Rizzo, and they're secretly Patrick's favorite, full of laughter and good questions and teenage rage-against energy. 

The kids huddle around, shooting David incredibly blatant glances. "Who is this?" Asks Joshie, a junior who's chalk-full of innuendo. She's eyeing David speculatively, head tilted.

"This is the guy who just brought you all pizza." Patrick leans in to peck David, a quick, cursory thing, as David gets close to him. "Guys, this is my husband, David."

Patrick didn't expect that sentence to be a big deal, but now that he's said it, it feels like one. He knows that he's mentioned having a husband before, but he's never said it like that — _this is my husband._ It feels so good, Patrick never wants to say anything else. He could be like Amelie, except instead of his own name, he'd say nothing but _this is my husband, David._

"...Cool skirt," Sal says. David looks himself over self-consciously, and Patrick smiles at him, so he knows that they mean that.

The kids descend on the pizza with abandon, still eyeing David and whispering to one another between bites, and David regards them with the kind of nervous energy he usually reserves for prospective vendors — he wants them to like him, Patrick knows, because Patrick likes _them._

Later, after the pizza has been demolished and David has left Patrick with a kiss and a _see you in a bit,_ Patrick corrals the kids into a circle beside the stage. "Mr Patrick?" Patrick looks at Sal — they're almost his height, so he doesn't have to look down at all. "Your husband is cool."

"Your husband is _hot,"_ Joshie announces, eliciting nervous giggles from the rest of the kids, but Patrick is too shaken to admonish them.

Hearing _your husband_ is almost as good as saying _my husband._ No one has ever said it to Patrick before. His mom asked for a dance with his groom at their wedding reception, but that isn't the same thing. _Husband_ is bigger than that. David was his groom for a day. They'll be husbands for the rest of their lives.

"Is it that surprising to you guys that I have a cool, hot husband?" He says finally, head still wrapping around the enormity of it. The possessive pronoun of it all. _His_ husband. His _husband._ David, David, David, Patrick thinks until his head is so full of _his husband David_ that he physically shakes it to make room for the rest of rehearsal.

Joshie and Sal keep putting their heads together and laughing, in the wings, in the backgrounds of scenes, and Patrick would bet this whole production that one or both of them has a crush on David, but honestly — honestly, if David had walked into Patrick's high school, he might have realized he was gay long before he actually did. Like, ten years before. So he can't blame them, really.

When Patrick gets home, he puts his arms around David's waist from behind — David is at the kitchen counter, scooping ice cream, and Patrick gathers him up and noses into the crook of his neck. "My kids really liked you," he says into David's skin.

"A), don't call them _your_ kids," David says, shuddering, "it gives me flashbacks to your drug-induced baby fever, and B), of course they like me. I'm a fucking delight."

"They called you my husband," Patrick whispers into the neckline of David's sweater, like it's a secret, and David squirms his way out of Patrick's arms, returning to his gallon of Moose Tracks and ceramic dessert bowls.

"I am your husband," he says in his blandest tone, trying to goad Patrick into explaining himself.

Patrick does. Because he wants to. He wants to take this enormous feeling blowing up inside him and see if he can share it with David. "No one has ever said 'your husband' to me before, though," he says to David's back. "Knowing it and hearing it are two different things. And it's like…like someone else saying it proved that this is real. That this isn't all some extended dream, and I'm going to wake up alone and wanting for you in my bedroom back at Ray's."

David finally turns, handing Patrick a bowl of ice cream, which he accepts easily — he's not much of an emotional eater, unlike David, but he's human, after all. "Is this what you used to dream about?" He wants to know. "Marriage, a white picket fence, coaching Little League?"

"There's no picket fence, and I'm advising the drama club," Patrick says, "but marriage felt more like an expectation before." He can feel himself blushing before he even gets the word out. "I didn't start dreaming of marriage until I'd started dating you."

David takes the bowls, still full but for a couple bites, and sets them wordlessly on the counter, then turns to Patrick with fire in his eyes.

Patrick's husband's kisses taste like vanilla and caramel and infinity stretching inward just for them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun thing this post is based on: a teenager at work announcing to our relatively newlywed boss, "your wife is here!" and he teared up because no one had said "your wife" to him before.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed! Visit me on tumblr @loveburnsbrighter


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